Militant Islamists have served Kashmirs earthquake victims better than an uncaring India or an incompetent Pakistan, and the consequences for ordinary Kashmiris will be bitter, says Omair Ahmad.
The Kashmir earthquake of 8 October 2005 is now estimated to have killed more than 80,000 people, easily outstripping conservative estimates of the number of people killed in the last sixteen years of violent conflict in the Indian-controlled part of the region, the state of Jammu & Kashmir (J&K). The coming winter is likely to claim many of the survivors. A disaster of this scale in such a contested region cannot avoid having political consequences, and the way the crisis has been variously handled by India, Pakistan and militant groups suggest that the period ahead will be difficult in this area too.
For many in India the quake – whose epicentre was near the city of Muzaffarabad in Pakistani-controlled Azad (“free”) Jammu & Kashmir (AJK) – had hit enemy territory, and the reaction in some circles was one of barely suppressed satisfaction. True, the Indian government immediately offered condolences and relief supplies to Pakistan, but the statement of the army chief-of-staff General JJ Singh rang louder: “The worst affected areas are the ones that had terrorist camps in Muzaffarabad and nearby areas.”
Also in openDemocracy on the Kashmir earthquake:
Jan McGirk, Kashmir: the politics of an earthquake
Maruf Khwaja, Pakistans mountain tsunami
Muzamil Jaleel, Kashmirs tragic opportunity
Michel Thieren, Kashmir: brothers in aid
Beena Sarwar, Kashmirs earthquake: dont care or dont know?
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The Indian establishment, especially its rightwing elements, has long considered the Kashmir conflict to be a “proxy war” sponsored and supported by Pakistan. Much of the training of the militants operating in Jammu & Kashmir allegedly takes place in AJK. This claim is given added credibility since the umbrella organisation of many of the militant groups operating in J&K, the United Jehad Council, is based in Muzaffarabad, the capital of AJK. In June 2005, when the leader of the Jammu & Kashmir Liberation Front, Yasin Malik, thanked Pakistan’s information minister, Shiekh Rashid, for providing support to Kashmiri separatists in AJK, it had embarrassed both India and Pakistan and threatened the fragile peace process.
The Indian army had already launched Operation Imdad (“help”) to look after the survivors on India’s side of the "line of control" (LoC), the military ceasefire line that separates J&K from AJK, but the response by the rest of India was pathetic. A spokesman for Oxfam in India, PJ Chacko, told the BBC that after the tsunami he received hundreds of phone calls offering help. Since this earthquake, he's only had about ten, he said.
When ordinary Kashmiris needed help, it seemed that Indians cared much less about the victims and a lot more about possible terrorists.
Militants in the frontline
In the face of statements that “militants had received a setback” by the Indian military establishment, Syed Ali Shah Geelani, the leader of Tehreek-e-Hurriyat Jammu wa Kashmir (Freedom Movement of Jammu & Kashmir) – who is often seen as the political face of the pro-Pakistan militants operating in J&K – captured much of the public mood when he said: “Those who possess human heart do not utter these statements and these utterances do not even suit them. Natural calamities no doubt kill the people but not the ideologies and principles of truth and justice. India should take it for granted that calamities cannot hamper the ongoing movement. It will continue till its logical conclusion.”
The militants were quick to prove Geelani right, and since the earthquake a series of high-profile attacks came in quick succession. J&K saw its first suicide bomb attack by a woman on 13 October; the minister of state for education was shot dead by militants on 18 October; a car bomb targeted an army camp on 26 October, killing one person and injuring twenty-five; another car bomb explosion took place in Srinagar, the capital of J&K, on 2 November as the new J&K chief minister, Ghulam Nabi Azad was being sworn in; a gun battle took place in Srinagar on 14-15 November; and a former state minister was killed on 16 November by another car bomb which also left sixty people injured.
But the most disturbing act of all was the three bomb blasts that exploded on 29 October in New Delhi, India’s capital, leaving more than sixty dead and 200 injured. The militant group Lashkar-e-Taiba (Soldiers of the Pure) were quickly held responsible, and since then three of its activists have been arrested by the Delhi police.
Between army and militants
Whether the Lashkar-e-Taiba was indeed responsible for the Delhi bomb blasts, it was certainly making its name heard across the line of control doing earthquake relief – better indeed than the Pakistani army. Where the army could move supplies into the mountainous region only by helicopter, the militants were already there. These hardy guerrilla fighters, experienced at operating in the mountains, cleared their own dead then went to help in the earthquake relief: “only the Mujahideen are helping, from Lashkar-e-Taiba and Jamaat ud-Dawa…One hour after the quake, they were here. The army only came on the fourth day.”
The Lashkar-e-Taiba, classified as a terrorist organisation by India and the United States, was officially banned by Pakistan in 2002. Its leader, Hafiz Mohammed Saeed, was allowed to found the Jamaat-ud-Dawa (Party of Invitation). To most people they are one and the same organisation.
The success of the two named groups in AJK exemplifies some of the primary reasons why, despite much successful progress, India refuses to trust Pakistan’s president, Pervez Musharraf, when he promises peace. It is impossible for India to trust Musharraf when he allows individuals who openly attack the Indian military establishments in Kashmir, and go on to advocate the conquest of India itself, to operate freely.
Moreover, Musharraf’s presidential title is misleading: he is a military commander who took power in a coup, and his core appeal is that he and the Pakistani army can more efficiently safeguard the interests of Pakistan than the politicians that he replaced. But Kashmir’s earthquake exposes what happens when the army’s efficiency fails.
For Asma Jahangir, the chair of the Pakistan Human Rights Commission – who has a long record of disputes with the Islamic parties – this is a scary moment: “(The) absence of government (makes) me fearful because if a government becomes dysfunctional, and there is no replacement for it except organised groups of militant Islamists, people will have no option but to depend on them.” Musharraf, meanwhile, states that he will take no actions against militant groups taking part in purely humanitarian work, although he will keep a close eye on them.
India sees a highly disturbing aspect of the tragedy here. It has accused the Lashkar-e-Taiba of engineering attacks on its very capital, killing dozens of innocent civilians. Yet the LeT and the Jamaat ud-Dawa are allowed not just to operate freely in Pakistan, they are gaining legitimacy and support while Musharraf looks on and does nothing.
The pain of Kashmiris
Beyond immediate considerations of Realpolitik, one moment in the aftermath of the earthquake seemed to bring the governments in New Delhi and Islamabad close to acknowledging that the earthquake was also a Kashmiri tragedy. Even a day after the bomb blasts in New Delhi, India and Pakistan agreed to implement the agreement to open five points along the LoC for ordinary Kashmiris to meet, offer help and exchange information. The Pakistani foreign minister, Khurshid Mahmud Kasuri, called this “the best confidence building measure taken so far by the two countries.”
It might not have seemed so for Kashmiris. When the first point was opened up on 7 November, only relief supplies were exchanged. Kashmiris who tried to cross were tear-gassed by Pakistani police; others were deterred by the excessive paperwork required by both governments. At the opening of the third crossing on 12 November, Nazir Pathan, who had been separated from his family fifty-eight years ago, was one among many who was not allowed to go across: “I was born on the other side and my parents died there.... I could not even attend the funeral. I wish I was a porter today and was able to touch the soil where my parents are buried.”
The tragedy of opportunities is that it is the quickest that make use of them, and the quickest may not be the best. As the dust settles from the earthquake the story seems to be that, when it comes to Kashmiris, India cares little, and Pakistan can deliver less. It is only the “army of believers” that seems to both care and to deliver. It is an awful recruiting-poster to arise from an awful tragedy, and guarantees the death of many more Kashmiris.
